


Did You Really Think It Was A Good Idea? (S12x02 Fix-it Fic)

by Hades_the_Blingking



Series: If Lucifer Was My Boyfriend [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: A+ Mary Winchester, As little angst as is humanely possible, CANON STOP HURTING MY SAMSHINE, Canon Divergence, Castiel still has wings and Grace, Fix-it fic, Fluff, Happy Sam is my Kink, Humour, Lady Tori gets wrecked, Lucifer is my vessel for vengeance, M/M, S12 Happy Ending, Season 12 spoilers, Seriously Supernatural why you gotta be so bad to Sammy, and blend of adorableness and Extreme Violence, ish, may ruin the This Little Piggy rhyme for you, no smut just Satanic cuddles for Sam, s12e02, sexual abuse recovery, sweet sweet punishment Lucifer style, torture but not Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 12:19:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8372074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hades_the_Blingking/pseuds/Hades_the_Blingking
Summary: Series SummaryA collection of scenarios from Supernatural in a canon divergence where Lucifer stayed out the Cage and is Sam's boyfriend. Oh the fun and games to be had. They're in no particular order. Written in 3rd person. n.n This Work: With her sigils and magic, Lady Tori was confident that she could make Sam disappear from even the Devil. But never underestimate the power and vengeance of a wrathful archangel, and oh boy, when he finds out what she has done to the one most precious to him...orThe one where Mary Winchester meets the boyfriends, Lucifer and Castiel go shopping, Sam gets hugs but also has brought home the literal Devil as a boyfriend to meet his mom and everything is happy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Trigger Warning:** This comes after/fixes up Lady Tori's gross mind-rape thing - it's not too angsty or vivid and gets fixed very quickly, but yo, trigger warnings for that.  
>  **Disclaimer:** So I was deciding or not whether to continue watching Supernatural into S12, thus I read a review or two of this episode to see whether I wanted to watch it. Even the review made me feel so sick that I had to write this fix-it just to feel better for the rest of the week. In short: a) Sorry if I get details wrong in the first bit (e.g whether Sam got told Tori's name or not), I really don't want to watch the episode and b) Sadly to say, I think my journey with canon Supernatural ends here because first of all (sorry for being a whiner) I managed through the end of S11 with my favourite character Lucifer being degraded to pretty much a joke, but I can't handle this bullshit vessel-hopping thing and yet another interpretation of his character being brought in by another actor (no hate on Misha though, he tried oh so hard to channel Mark). It seemed like Lucifer went through a lot of character development last season and now he's back to square one? I don't know. Secondly, I really can't stand the rape and torture, and how they seem to think it's not so bad because Sam's a guy. I doubt it would be allowed on TV if the gender roles were switched. Even with Castiel back to his brilliant S4-5-reminiscent self, it's just not enough. Who knows, maybe the season will get better and I'll try again, but for now I really just can't. Sorry - rant over!

Sam choked from disgust as he snapped back to himself. That woman had forced himself into her head, had forced herself on him, and even if it had all just been in his head, his whole body churned with gross nausea. But of course, he didn’t show it. He sat there with defiance in his eyes and gritted teeth. Sam tried to blot the memory out with Lucifer; his hands on Sam’s skin, his wicked tongue – ugh, no, his head just tipped back to that sick _bitch_ …  
A stray gust of wind groaned through the building above them.  
“Now Sam, that was fun wasn’t it?” The blonde sadist smirked, and Sam gave no ground. He didn’t look away or swallow or protest, because that would show he’d been affected. That would show weakness where he could afford none. The places in his mind Lucifer had created long ago in case of situations like this covered physical torture – that had been fine, pain was no problem. But everything, demons, angels, even God’s damn sister didn’t dare to touch Sam knowing the absolute wrath it would bring from the Devil. Of course, humans had to be the outlier in that equation, and even Sam, no matter how much he hated this bitch right now, even he didn’t think he could bring himself to watch what Lucifer would do to this woman and her lackeys when the archangel found out.  
“You know you just damned your soul to an eternity of torture?” Sam shot back over the hot cloy in his throat. The wind surged again in an angry howl and the house above them creaked in response.  
“Oh, you think your Satanic boyfriend will save you?” She smirked and pointed to the archangelic wards on the ceiling and doors. “Sweetheart, I doubt he even knows you’re here.”

Sam had tried to pray. He knew he’d triggered a call to Lucifer when he’d switched into his torture brackets, but whether it had gone through was anyone’s guess. He’d even tried to open a line as a true vessel, but Sam knew the hope was faint. These wards were more complex than anything the hunter had ever seen, but if Sam had anything, he had an ironic kind of faith.  
Another lash of wind roared above them, followed by a loud, visceral crash. Blonde Bitch frowned for a moment, turned to look toward the door, then pulled out her phone.  
“Taylor, what was that?” She glanced toward Sam as he glared from the chair. “A cyclone? But there was no report…never mind, we’re underground where we are.”  
She slid away her phone with a cold smile. “Looks like you and me are going to have to find a way to pass the time through some strong weather.”

Even as a little glimmer of hope of a diversion for time picked up in Sam’s chest, it was strangled out again as the bitch plucked another syringe from the tray. Timber screamed and rattled above them, shook the metal door to the basement.  
“I wonder what lovely dreams you’re going to have this time, Sam.” She smirked just as a clap of thunder boomed so loud above them that the instruments on the metal tray rattled. But the rattling didn’t stop. A roar like an oncoming train punched fear into Sam’s chest, then the impact smacked into them with such violence that all Sam could see was blurs of the grey concrete and hear his heartbeat in his ears. Blonde bitch stumbled, then staggered against the wall as the ground shook. A crack louder than a gunshot snapped through the air as the wood above them snapped, crushed the stairs and collapsed into the space behind Sam to expose open sky where the building above had been ripped away. This was no normal earthquake. 

A bubble of absolute delight and relief welled up in the hunter as rain smattered his face like kisses. The sky shrieked, a roiling mass of black and debris above him, and Sam laughed like a crazy man as lightning shattered down from the sky and lit impossible, tall flames around the open pit they were in. Lucifer. The Devil had come for him. These pathetic humans had no clue what wild, unbridled archangel rage looked like and now would see what would happen when someone hurt Lucifer’s mate. The archangel didn’t have to come into their dwelling, because Lucifer had the earth and sky at his command. 

Over the swell of the raw elements, Sam could hear his torturer try and shout some kind of spell or something, but the floor juddered again and the wind sucked the air from her lungs. The raw dirt where the house had been ripped away by the storm moved, slid, twisted like a corkscrew, and the basement slipped under the chair Sam was chained to. Like a ship in a maelstrom of dirt, the room plunged into the earth, and Sam knew exactly where they were going. To his holiday home; Hell. So the hunter leaned back as the rain washed the sick crawl from his skin and grinned to the silhouette of two huge wings that flashed against the lightning as he and his doomed torturer descended into The Pit.

The room’s floor and remaining walls shattered as it hit the ground of the cavern, and any last shred of the seals turned to dust. Sam felt no impact, and it seemed the Blonde Bitch didn’t either, just panted with wild eyes on the stone floor as she took in what would be her surroundings for the next eternity.  
“Oh Sam, what have they done to you?” Lucifer’s voice held no rage, only frantic worry as the archangel dissolved the chains that held him to the chair. Warm, strong arms wrapped around the hunter as the Sam staggered to his feet. The touch dried his clothes and lit him up with healing light – the rawness on his feet, the cuts on his body, the slashes and bruises and dull throb of the syringe puncture all faded away. After everything, God, it was safe. _Sam_ was safe, back with his angel. The hunter tucked his nose into Lucifer’s shoulder and buried everything there, squeezed this warm body as tight as he could to verify that this was real. 

“Satanicus – “ Blonde Bitch choked as Lucifer made a sudden, violent motion with his fist behind Sam’s back and the woman’s tongue ripped straight out her mouth with a meaty squelch. The Devil didn’t even acknowledge what he’d done, simply let her drown without being able to die in her own blood.  
“Oh my pretty creature…” Lucifer caught Sam’s face and looked into his eyes, and the hunter opened up, let the archangel read everything they’d done to him. Something went cold in that blue gaze. Deadly cold. That stubbled jaw worked, and Lucifer’s hand tensed where it had rested to stroke Sam’s hair.  
“Thank you, thank you so much.” Sam squeezed the curve of the archangel’s neck, in an attempt to calm him down. Yes, Blonde Bitch deserved to be roasted for all eternity, but the look in Lucifer’s eyes leant dangerously close to breaking the pact with Michael and burning humanity. “How did you find me?”  
“Dean called and told me the country state you were in. It didn’t take Castiel and I long to find the only building with enough wards to keep out an archangel.” Lucifer looked down, but his hand relaxed in Sam’s hair and on his side.  
“Dean’s alive?” Sam breathed and rested his forehead against Lucifer’s, but as much as the Devil was trying to be soft and gentle here, the hunter could taste his hunger for vengeance in his breath and the tension in his muscles.  
“God and Amara made amends.” Lucifer nodded. “But they should have protected you, they should have made sure you were safe! I…I should have – “  
“Lucifer.” Sam stroked that blonde hair and kissed his lover’s cheek. “You were weak after standing with us against Amara. And this happened when they left. There’s nothing to be done now except…”

He turned to look at the bitch on the ground behind him. True, they preached saving people and turning the other cheek, but Sam had always had something a little dark inside him. When he was with Lucifer, he was more free to be himself, more free to embrace that delicious little indulgence.  
“It won’t undo what she did, my pretty.” Lucifer’s fingers crept up to his temple, and Sam felt the memory drift back, dull and lapse into an uncomfortable thought rather than a sickening reality. He was glad the archangel hadn’t wiped it and left it with a hole in his past, but it was still there.  
“But Sam, I’m going to hurt her. I’m going to break her body, then break her mind and break her soul, then I’m going to hang her on the gates of hell in eternal agony as a warning to anything that dares even think of hurting you.” The Devil’s voice was soft, but his hard gaze slid to the Blonde Bitch and Sam moved out of his arms to let him get to it faster. “Unless you need me. If you need me, I will deal with her later.”

Lucifer slipped his hand around Sam’s fingers, but the hunter could feel the archangel’s restraint at the end of his tether. It was taking every ounce of control the Devil had not to start the pain party, and it warmed Sam from the core that the archangel put him first above everything.  
“I think the best therapy right now is seeing her pay. For both of us.”  
Even though Lucifer had softened the jagged edges of what had happened to him, Sam wanted blood. He’d do it himself, but knew Lucifer would do a much better job.  
“This is why I love you.” Lucifer’s curved lips kissed his fingers, but even at that the dull memory of this awful woman came back, and Sam swallowed. The Devil seemed to notice and squeezed his hand, then that smile crept over his face as he turned to the woman on the ground. That smile which Lucifer never used on Sam, because it meant things were about to get messy.  
“Mm. Tori isn’t it.” Lucifer squatted, picked up the woman’s tongue and bared his teeth at it. “ _Lady_ Tori.”

The Devil hefted the meat in his hand, then grabbed her jaw and shoved it back in again with a cold kind of curiosity.  
“Now tell me.” Lucifer pressed a finger to his lips as Tori spat out blood. “Smart lady like yourself. What made you ever think you could escape me after what you did to Sam, hm? Your little magic tricks, your pathetic little wards?”  
Lucifer queried in a mocking, camp voice. The calm suaveness had drained off Tori’s face, and Sam revelled in it without an ounce of guilt. Her eyes flicked to him, but the hunter barely got to drink in the fear there before Lucifer’s hand lashed into her hair so hard she cried out.  
“You don’t even look at him, you hear me?” Lucifer’s voice dropped from a snarl into a lilt, and the harsh hand smoothed over the hair he’d just ripped with a sick kind of softness. “You don’t. Even. Look.”  
“I was doing what was best for the world. For us. It was necessary.” Tori’s voice shook, but her other hand began to draw something on the stone in her own blood. Pathetic attempt. Lucifer’s eyes drifted along her body in the lecherous kind of way Sam knew the Devil was capable of, but didn’t like to think about and an evil smirk curved across his lips as he noticed the attempt at a sigil. 

The archangel tutted against the back of his teeth, and plucked her hand up by the wrist, still squatted at her side.  
“Now this little piggy went to the market,” Lucifer recited as thoughtfully as if he were reciting to a child and traced along her pinkie. With a sympathetic pout, he tugged at the appendage until Tori made a noise Sam didn’t even know humans could make in the back of her throat, then she gasped. Her knee shot up as she clawed at Lucifer with the other hand, but he was absorbed, like Sam, in the way the skin at the base of the finger bruised red, then welled with crimson and the hunter could just hear the sucking tear over Tori’s scream as Lucifer ever so slowly pulled her finger off. He tossed it away over his shoulder and tapped the tip of her ring finger.  
“This little piggy stayed at home,” Lucifer nodded at her in an endearing kind of way. He conjured a long sliver of pointed steel and wiggled it under the nail as Tori threw her head back and screamed, then choked on the contents of her own stomach as her body purged from shock. She tried to gag and cry at the same time, but Lucifer seemed unperturbed as he pushed the metal down through her flesh.  
“This little piggy had roast beef,” The Devil continued. Tori’s wrist shook so hard in his hand that blood from the first finger spattered across Lucifer’s shirt. A blue flame, like the one the black-haired torturer had used on Sam’s feet lit up the end of his finger, and the hunter had to look away as his lover laved the thing over the sensitive underside of her middle finger. The skin crackled and melted, and true enough to the rhyme, the scent of roast beef, of burning human flesh met Sam’s nose. That was ok though. From burning enough bodies, it didn’t just remind him of his own pain. 

When Sam looked back, all that was left was a sickly white spire of bone with lumps of black and yellow flesh hanging off it in strings. Tori convulsed, a pitiful mess of blood, tears and vomit down the front of her shirt as her throat didn't even make any sound, it was so hoarse. Although Sam would hate to admit it, it was a fascinating thing – like watching someone orgasm, in a way. They had no control over the sound or movements of their body, the sensation just consumed them. The hunter knew this little hand game was just a warm-up for Lucifer though, because that extreme amount of pain became ineffective after a while. But Sam felt that this was for his benefit more than the Devil’s, and to be honest, he didn’t really want to be around when Satan got down to the real nasty stuff. Their relationship was like that – Lucifer turned a blind eye to Sam killing his demons and monsters, while Sam turned a blind eye to Lucifer torturing souls. With that out the way, they really didn’t have much to argue over.

“This little piggy had none.” The Devil tapped the next finger with a parental kind of enthusiasm and Sam caught the flash of a knife in his hand. Like he might with a fruit, Lucifer caught the appendage between his thumb and the blade. It bowed the nail, just below where it left the finger then he pressed down a little harder and clipped off half the nail and the tip of the finger.  
“Please!” Tori shrieked and jerked in his grasp but Lucifer just continued to chop down with the steady click of bone against steel, held her like a cow being branded.  
“And this little piggy – “ Lucifer turned to her thumb with that soft, cruel smile. “Went wee wee wee all the way home.”  
As he recited, he pulled her thumb down the wrong way until it popped, made a grisly rip, then peeled off the side of her hand as easily as one might remove a drumstick from a chicken carcass.  
It separated from the palm in a chunk of tendons and flesh, and Sam could see white spurs of the ball joint it had been fixed in. Blood streamed down her hand, but in Hell, under Lucifer’s tender care, it was impossible to pass out from shock or blood loss.  
“Now, would you like to run that by me again. Why did you ever think it was a good idea?” Lucifer cocked his head at the woman as if he expected an answer between the retches and sobs. Her mangled hand convulsed like a poisoned insect, but a raw part of Sam loved it. Before she’d sexually abused him, he might have settled with just her painful death. But that had disgusted him to his core and Lucifer could do what he liked to her.

The hunter prowled closer as the memory welled up inside him like a physical sickness. Lucifer just moved out of his way as Sam knelt beside the wretched woman.  
“Beg. Beg for my forgiveness and he might let you go.” Sam admired her with cold eyes, full to the brim with hatred. People seemed to think that where Lucifer could both be cruel and kind, Sam couldn’t be kind and cruel. Whoever thought that was oh so wrong.  
“Please please please, I’m so sorry, I promise – “ She broke off as saliva, blood, vomit, Sam didn’t care, choked up her throat again from pain.  
“It’s a pity I’m not really in a forgiving mood, isn’t it?” Sam spat and turned to Lucifer. “Do what you want with her.”  
A gritty noise pushed out Tori’s throat, which might have been desperation or defiance, but neither would matter where she was going. Yes, Lucifer would feed her hope to keep them alive and pleasure to contrast the pain, so she would never lose those qualities. Those qualities which kept her feeling and fighting and that would make her torture truly eternal.  
The Devil shot him a different smile, the perky, pleased one and clicked his fingers. Two demons in bloodied butcher aprons appeared on the other side of Tori and took her in with wicked grins.  
“Drag her to my VIP suite extra special style. Strip her, store her in an iron maiden for now and…oh. I hear she has a nice little family somewhere.”  
“No!” Tori’s pained moans turned to screams, and Sam pretended not to hear what Lucifer said next.  
“Find them and we’ll have a little reunion, hm?” The Devil winked at the blonde’s horrified, bloodstained face, but she didn’t get to scream at him long; the demons rammed hooks into her eye sockets and dragged her with chains away into the vast blackness. Sam guessed that’s what Lucifer had meant by ‘extra special style’.

“Better?” The Devil insta-cleaned his hands of blood with a flick, and Sam nodded.  
“I know they say revenge doesn’t help, but that really did help.” He sighed and laid his head on Lucifer’s shoulder as the archangel continued to squat as though he were the world Thigh Muscle Champion. “Can you get her out of my head, Luci? Her body, her sounds, the feel of her on me…”  
Sam shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut as even the dull memory choked up his throat. Cool fingers pressed against his forehead, and the details slipped through the grasp of his thought.  
How long Lucifer sat there with him and pulled the memory apart with his caress, blurred out the nausea, faded it into dream-like blotches of colour and murmurs that made no sense, Sam wasn’t sure. When he opened his eyes, he knew what had happened, just couldn’t remember the details. Like it was a story about someone else and not him, a badly told one at that, or something lost in a drunken haze.

“Thank you.” Sam let out a shaky sigh and turned and kissed those soft lips framed in the rough texture of stubble. The feeling in his throat and stomach was gone. He just…couldn’t remember. Thank the Devil for that.  
Lucifer just looked at him with warmth that glowed right from his smile and into his eyes.  
“Now, shall we go and meet your mother?”  
Sam’s jaw just about fell off in shock.

 

*******

“How long has it been?”  
Mary Winchester watched her little squish Dean turn to his angelic boyfriend. Wow, she had missed a lot. You leave the world alone for a minute to die on the ceiling and come back to your kid being like, ten years younger than you with a gay angel lover who’d both just had a showdown with God and his asshole sister. Not to mention phones were now flat and pocket-sized, computers looked like fucking waffle irons and all musicians seemed obsessed with butts. Seriously. The amount of butt-related songs she’d heard on the café radios on the road with Dean in just two days was crazy.  
“An hour.” Castiel grated out with his throat-wrecking voice as he paced in the room. Mary still couldn’t believe her son had pulled an angel. A literal angel. Well, at least he had a real angel to watch over him while he slept. Or put him to bed. Or possibly have weird holy sex with in bed. The huntress’s mind still boggled a bit over the mechanics of that.  
“An hour? It shouldn’t have taken that long, should it?” Dean growled and tapped his gun in his hand. Between the two of them, they were going to wear out the carpet, and not in the fun way.  
“I still don’t understand why we didn’t go.” Mary put in. Dean had made what looked like a very uncomfortable, awkward phone call to someone he sounded like he shouldn’t have the number of, then Castiel had just vanished and returned five minutes later with no explanation.  
“The guy on it can be…” Dean trailed off and glanced over at Castiel with a worried expression. “A little extreme.”  
“That is an understatement.” The angel returned Dean’s worried look. “I checked and most of the countryside is still there.”  
“Most of the…is this another angel?” Mary looked between the decidedly uncomfortable pair of them. To be honest, she was a little nervous to see Sam. He’d been like, a pink potato the last time she’d seen him. Would her younger son look like John? Would he be small or big or have weird tattoos? _“Dean.”_

Ahhh, the wonderful power of the ‘mother’ tone. Just as her eldest opened an obedient mouth, there was a _whump_ of wings, and two men appeared in the room. Unless Sam had been cursed by some strange, Irish card-witch to age beyond his years, he couldn’t be the man on the left, who (although he was pretty darn sexy) looked older than Dean. Which meant the strapping tall hunk of a man on the right was Sam. Good sweet baby Jesus there were some good genes in their family. There was a brief moment of silence.  
“Mom…? Dean!” The big goofball grinned and looked between the two of them. Mary just took him in for a second. Blood drenched his shirt, but where it was ripped and should have been injuries was only smooth flesh. Perhaps this new angel had healed him like Castiel had healed her when they’d been hit by that car. Blood had also soaked into the knees of his jeans, but it seemed like it had barely dried. Had he fucked his captor up? She hoped he’d fucked his captor up. Mary crossed the room before she knew it and gathered up the giant man her pudgy bean had become into her arms, blood and all.  
“Oh Sam, you’re so big!” She squeezed him and hoped it would help all the pain of the last few days drain away. Angels were nice and all, but no matter what sort of holy shit they had up their sleeves, a mother’s hug wasn’t one of them.  
“Mom…” Sam kind of breathed her in, his voice all choked, and she could feel his heart thud through that Jim-Kirk-style ripped shirt. Aw, poor bab must be as nervous to meet her as she was to meet him. “I never…”  
“Shh, it’s ok.” Mary smoothed down that glorious mane of hair he had. Wow, if she’d known her kids were all gonna be this strapping, she would have goddamn had more of them. Pesky death getting in the way. 

They broke apart and Sam took her in again. The blonde, scruffy older angel beside him smirked; this guy seemed much less rigid than Castiel. There was something calculative and almost scary about him too, but Mary just couldn’t put her finger on it. Though, every time he looked at Sam, the guy’s eyes seemed to light up. Well that was oddly cute. Perhaps this guy was Sam’s boyfriend too. Maybe they were all gay for angels. Maybe she was gay for angels, but she just didn’t know it yet. Maybe angels made everyone gay for them. Who knew. Although Mary was a little morbidly interested on where Sam had picked up a liking for older guys.  
“Sammy…” Dean clapped his little (or not so little) brother on the shoulder, but Sam just turned and pulled Dean into those massive bear arms too. Jeez, it must have been hilarious when Sam hit the growth spurts. Kid must’ve zoomed up like a frickin Samflower.  
“You never stay dead, do you?” Sam huffed into Dean’s shoulder, but by the thickness of his voice and the squeeze of his arms, her sons still had a healthy dose of brotherly teasing. Although that did make Mary kind of wonder how many times these two had died. Once like her? For how long? Had John come back too? A strange, prophetic, nay, fourth-wall-breaking image of zombies and apocalypse survivalism hit the huntress, but she didn’t really get what that had to do with John returning or not.  
“Did he tell you what happened?” Dean played the pronoun game with the new angel and Sam nodded as they broke apart. “What about you though? You look like you’ve been through Hell. Well…y’know.”  
Dean shrugged in an apologetic kind of way, which seemed weird, but Sam just shook his head. “I think I was tortured a lot, but I can’t really remember any of it.”

The tall man shot a grateful look over at the angel he was probably very gay for, and both Dean and Castiel gave the blonde thankful, unspoken nods. There seemed to be an invisible wall between the side of Sam Castiel and Dean were on and the side of Sam the other angel was on, but neither seemed to want to cross into each other’s Sam-territory.  
Mary just couldn’t hold her curiosity in for any longer.  
“So Sam…” She shot her son a knowing smile and looked between him and the roguish blonde who couldn’t be much younger than her. Well, appearance wise. Mary supposed age gaps stopped being weird when your significant other was in the millions. “Who’s this?”

Mary was overjoyed, because the expression on Sam’s face was the exact one she imagined he might have bringing home his first girlfriend (or boyfriend) and being all adorable and nervous about it. She really had no idea.  
“Um.” Sam glanced at the other man, whose smirk just got even more wicked, then kind of glanced at Dean for help, who looked pointedly unhelpful. Castiel looked blank as always, unless things concerned Dean and murder.  
Maybe Sam hadn’t come out yet, or wasn’t sure how she’d react to The Gayᵀᴹ.  
“It’s ok, honey, I’m not going to judge.” She sent them both an encouraging smile.  
“Uh, ok then.” Sam ran a nervous hand through his hair and gestured at his amused companion. “Mom, this is my uh, partner Lucifer, Lucifer, you know my mom I guess.”  
What the shit.

“Lucifer.” Mary kind of stared at both of them for a second. For real? What the fuck had John told Sam in the sex talk that had led to actual Satan? Ok. She was judging a little bit. But it seemed, uh, the Devil, had helped Sam, had healed him and looked after him. The care in his eyes she’d seen before had looked genuine enough.  
“Mm, shall I do the tongue, eyes and horns, or do I pass on good looks alone.” Lucifer winked and Sam’s perfect tan didn’t quite cover the blush. Well at least Satan had a sense of humour, although nothing was going to save her youngest from being sat down and made spill how he’d ended up with the literal Devil for a boyfriend.  
“You saved Sam.” Mary crossed her arms and looked between them.  
“Dragged the whole place into the pit of Hell for him, yes.” Lucifer’s gaze challenged hers, as if he dared her to say that dragging a small subsection to The Fiery Depths wasn’t good enough for her boy.  
“And the bitch who tortured him?” Mary raised her eyebrows, and wondered whether Satan would let her at the hoe if he’d kept her on ice. A slow, wicked smile spread across the Devil’s face, and the huntress found herself warm to him just a little more.  
“Eternal damnation is the nice term for it, I think.” Something very dark glinted in those blue eyes, but from the amount of blood on Sam’s clothes, Mary could agree with a bit of eternal damnation. “All their little cronies are going to regret the day they touched even a hair on my Sam’s head.”

Sam looked torn between a smile and asking his Satanic boyfriend to open the ground up beneath him as Lucifer reached up and ran a gentle finger down that soft brown hair. Ok. Maybe these two were a little cute. What was the world coming to when Satan dating her baby boy Sam was cute? She’d thought the butt songs had been weird.  
“You mean the British Men of Letters?” Castiel suddenly frowned. “Lucifer, what are you going to do to them?”  
Lucifer made a prideful little pout and took in the other angel. “They drew attention to themselves, and now I know their codes. I know the magic they’re using now, so let’s just say their little border patrol might not be so effective.”  
The other angel huffed out a frustrated sigh. “Lucifer, they have a good system. People don’t die of monsters there.”  
“Where’s the fun in that?” Lucifer shimmied his shoulders a little and crossed his arms as Dean rolled his eyes. “And my pact doesn’t involve not trying. In fact it should spice up Michael’s life to give him some healthy competition. Balance was part of the bargain, little brother.”  
“We will try and stop you.” Castiel warned, and Mary wondered how this little dysfunctional family stayed together. The huntress would soon find out that both video games and running avid commentary on The Great British Bake Off and America’s Got Talent solved most disputes.  
“Wouldn’t be half the fun if you didn’t.” Lucifer made a kiss at the other angel, which earned a small glare from Dean. 

This was undercut a little when Sam’s stomach made a loud grumble and Mary’s mother instinct pounced on it like a kitten with string.  
“Now I’m betting those bastards didn’t feed you enough, Sam, and you haven’t eaten hardly anything since he went missing.” Mary rounded on Dean too with an accusatory finger, then turned to the angels. “How about you boys?”  
“Everything tastes like molecules.” Castiel cried an inward tear over the loss of his PB&J tastebuds, while Dean glared at Lucifer.  
“He’s only allowed to eat if he doesn’t get freaky with his tongue.”  
The Devil put a hand on his own chest with a look of extreme innocence, and Mary wondered what it meant when Lucifer ‘got freaky with his tongue’. “I didn’t hear Sam complaining.”  
Her younger son just shot Lucifer an amused, smug little look. Ok, maybe she didn’t want to know after all.  
“Alright, how about you angels go get us some supplies, while I get a few moments with my sons, hm? Then we can all sit down for dinner and get to know everyone properly.” Mary shot a mutinous-looking Castiel and a mildly surprised-looking Lucifer a bright smile. It looked like those two could do with a bit of bonding. She pulled out a pen with notepaper and jotted down everything they’d need for a good roast.

Thing went…weirdly. Apparently angels get distracted very easily. Lucifer came back with a pile of weird food Mary had never seen in her life before, a pair of stilettos in his size and an entire crate of tequila, which everybody knew was a bad idea but they would probably end up drinking some anyway. Castiel had tried his damn hardest to get everything on the list, but had also bought a lot of honey with Lucifer’s Satan Cash because ‘the bees felt nice’. Turned the bee feeling tasted better than molecules, because Castiel made it through three tubs of honey during dinner and finished the other three off after dinner. Her eldest was fucking dating Winnie-the-Pooh in angel form, while her youngest was dating Satan. Not quite the potential mates she’d had in mind for her kiddies, but it seemed to work. It seemed to work in a really odd, nice way in fact. 

After dinner they watched some wonderful food show called the Great British Bake Off, which Mary so had to take bread-making tips from and Sam just dozed off in Lucifer’s lap. Well, he’d had a hard few days, Mary supposed, and had a lot thrown at him. After getting over the whole Devil hurdle, Lucifer didn’t seem like such a bad guy, and it was clear in the way he watched Sam sleep, then gathered up and carried the passed-out 6ft 4 hunter off to bed that he really did care for her son. Mary stayed up a little later and just talked with Dean, listened to her son and his less satanic angel argue like a married couple over what show to watch next and just revelled in how, even though her boys had been raised into this hard life, they’d managed to chisel out their little corner of happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> Sam gets cuddles all night long and breakfast in bed. Dean and Cas settled on Jurassic Park and Cas gave running commentary on how the dinosaurs were actually just one of Gabriel’s pranks.
> 
> Anyway, that's my little self-therapy out the way. The rest of this series should be more in the vein of the second half - this one wasn't actually meant to be first, but feeling disgusted swayed my hand. Hope you all enjoyed it, and any comments and kudos are very much welcome! Stay awesome my buddies (。・ω・。)


End file.
